


Not a Tame Dragon

by wishingonafeather



Series: The Dragon and his Blogger [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Dragonlock, Gen, Smauglock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 09:45:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1423921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishingonafeather/pseuds/wishingonafeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What started out as a straight-forward chase turns into something deadlier when something from a previous case comes to light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Tame Dragon

John panted heavily, desperately trying to keep up with the horse-shaped shifter that was responsible for an extensive list of gambling frauds at the last Grand National. Quite inspired really; horse-shifter runs a gambling business, then poses as one of the race horses and deliberately loses the races, collecting large sums of money. He heard a whoosh of air and knew than Sherlock was about to make the final pounce. John rounded a final corner and skidded to a halt, surprised to find their quarry back on two legs. The shock soon wore off though when he noticed to gun in his hand and John regretted leaving his Sig at home. Sherlock landed with a roar, John calling out to warn him as the fugitive smiled, raised the pistol and fired, hitting the dragon in the shoulder.

"SHERLOCK!" It was odd, there was no sign of any blood, and yet he was stumbling about, almost as if ... Shit, as if he was drugged.

"Trust me mate, I'm the least of your worries now, not while you've got him to fight instead. Oh, and by the way, Moriarty sends his regards." And with that the horse was back and galloping off. John ran over to where Sherlock was lying on the ground, back in his human form, thrashing about as if in some sort of fit.

"Look at me Sherlock, just let me look at you." He managed to hold Sherlock's head still to check his eyes. They were unfocused, glazed over and definitely _not_ human. With one final jerk he lay still, his gaze swimming back into focus.

"John," he choked out. "Baskerville, the drug. Get out of here."

"Sherlock ..." John started to protest.

"NOW!" Sherlock shouted, then screamed and he began to shift back against his control. John knew very little about shifter biology, but one of the few things he did know was that for it to be a painless transformation it required conscious control. Sherlock was screaming in agony as the scales ripped through his skin, bones and organs shifted and reformed, and his wings tore themselves out of his back. While all this was unsettling, it was Sherlock's eyes that chilled John to the bone. The spark in Sherlock's eye, all the humanity, all that intelligence, was gone. The dragon stood up and let out a roar that made the earth shake. John took shelter behind a skip as his fumbling hands found his phone and dialled Lestrade's number. After a few panicked seconds, he finally picked up.

"John?"

"Oh thank God you're there."

"Have you caught him already? And why are you whispering?" It was only then that John realised how quiet he was speaking.

"No we haven't, and we have a bit of a problem. He drugged Sherlock with God-knows-what and he's lost his mind. It's as if he's no longer in there; and instead there is now a pissed off and very-much wild dragon not 10 feet from me. Please, you have to help me. You need to let the animal control unit know and tell them to bring a dart-gun with enough sedative to take him down until we can get him some place he can't hurt anyone." John's eyes were still fixed on Sherlock, who had calmed down a bit and was now investigating the alleyway. "And please _hurry_!"

Lestrade hung up, and John let out a few breaths to calm himself. Slowly, he stood up from behind the skip and, very slowly made his way out, towards the dragon.

"Sherlock?" Why was he doing this? The dragon's head snapped around, fixing John with those bright orange eyes. He gulped, remembering to make himself as small and non-threatening as possible. Something about him seemed to trigger what was left of Sherlock's mind; a flash of what could almost be recognition flashing in his eyes, almost as if the drug was wearing off. Standing perfectly still, he let the dragon investigate, smelling him and looking at him from all angles.

All of a sudden the animal control unit arrived, along with what seemed like half of the Yard. Sherlock let out a bellow and the officers that were getting out of their car leapt for cover as the dragon shot a ball of flames in their direction. If John didn't know any better he'd say that the dragon was protecting him. He placed a hand on his friend's tough hide, and tries to sooth him.

"It's ok, Sherlock, everything is going to be alright." Then he saw the shifter that they had been chasing cuffed in the back of one of the cars. They'd caught the bastard then. Unfortunately, Sherlock also recognised him. He made a bee-line for the car, ripping off the roof and grabbing the man with his claws.

"Yooou did thissss to meee." His voice was deeper and more menacing than John had ever heard it, and it terrified him. "I have heard of thisssss Moriarty." 'Wait,' John thought to himself. 'If he can talk, then he's nearly himself again. Maybe I can get through to him.'

"Please. Put me down. I'll tell you whatever you need to know about him." The man was pleading. Although Sherlock was slowly coming back to himself, the dragon was still relatively in control.

"You are nothing but a liar; you'd sssay anything to sssave your own ssskin. You are jussst a pawn in Moriarty's network; you don't know anything." The defeated look on the man's face was proof enough of this. Suddenly, the man let out a scream as, instead of putting him down, the dragon threw him into the air, his mouth closing around his waist and swallowing him whole. Everyone watched in silence with horrified eyes. One of the animal control personnel regained his senses, and raised the dart gun. It met its mark, pumping a highly concentrated mixture of ketamine and midazolam into his bloodstream. Sherlock staggered back, the drugs taking effect very quickly. About 20 seconds later, the dragon's legs collapsed underneath him and he shrank back to his own size.

"Can someone please tell me what the hell just happened here?" John groaned as Sally Donovan emerged from behind her car and made a line straight for John.

"Well, the shifter we were chasing shot Sherlock with some form of drug that caused the instincts from his animal form to take over. I doubt very much that he'll remember any of this as, for all intents and purposes, what you just saw was not Sherlock. The drug was starting to wear off when you got here, which is why he could speak, but I doubt that he's going to fully be himself for a good couple of hours. Best if he was kept sedated until then." Donovan didn't seem to be buying a work of it. Of course, a blood test would quickly show what exactly he had been injected with, although there was always the possibility that it wouldn't be recognised even if they did find it. Sherlock was loaded into the ambulance and John climbed in after.

The drive to the hospital was a quiet one, and John spent the time constantly checking and re-checking Sherlock's vitals. God knows how much sedative they'd hit him with. Lestrade stopped him once Sherlock had been checked in, but John brushed him off with a "Surely it can wait until after he's woken up." before following Sherlock to his ward where they hooked him up to an IV line.

It was about 3 hours before Sherlock finally came round.

"What happened?" Well, that was Sherlock alright, straight to the point.

"What's the last thing you remember?" He rather hoped that it was as little as possible.

"The bookie shot me with some kind of drug; I shifted back to human; told you to run and then, nothing until I woke up in this bed." John breathed a sigh of relief. This could well save both of them a whole lot of trouble, especially concerning Sherlock's rather unorthodox method of dealing with the fugitive.

"Well, you remember the drug in Baskerville?" Sherlock gave John a condescending look. "Anyway it was some form of that. It was like the dragon had taken over. I called Lestrade and he sent over an animal control unit, along with half of the force. You recognised the bookie and you erm ..." John paused, unsure how to continue.

"I _what_ , John?"

"You ... ate him." John cringed at the memory of the terrified scream as he had fallen to his death. Sherlock looked, well 'stunned' didn't quite cover it. It was almost as if he was rebooting, trying to process what John had just told him.

"I _ate_ someone?" Was all he said, when he had regained his wits about him.

"Swallowed him whole; gave everyone a bit of a fright. And then one of the people from the animal control unit shot you with a tranquiliser dart. We decided it was best for you to stay under until we were sure the drug had worn off. You've been out about 3 hours - it was starting to wear off right before they darted you."

At precisely that moment, Lestrade came in.

"I see you're back with us Sherlock. I assume John's filled you in on all the details?"

"Yes, Detective Inspector, that's right." It looked like Sherlock was trying to be on his best behaviour given his actions over the past few hours. "I must apologise for any damage done, though in my defence, I wasn't entirely myself. From what I gather most of the Yard now are aware of what I am. Pity, I had really hoped to keep it as quiet as possible." Lestrade seemed taken aback by this outburst, but quickly collected himself.

"Well, as things stand, you can't be held accountable for what you did. They analysed the drug that was retrieved from your blood and, quite frankly, the people at the lab have never seen anything like it. The death of the man, while unfortunate, can be dealt with fairly quickly. I believe that the laws are a bit more flexible regarding shifters and fights between their animals. He attacked and provoked you, and you shifted and temporarily lost control. In fact, the worst that you can actually be punished for is failing to register as a shifter. I can get the necessary paperwork drawn up and sent over to Baker Street." He turned to John. "How long will he be in here?" John thought about it for a moment.

Given the quantity of sedatives he was given, it would be best to keep him in overnight for observation." Sherlock shot him a nasty look. "No, Sherlock, you know as well as I do the effect that sedative drugs can have on the system. You were given enough ketamine to take down a dragon, and given your ... history; I'd rather keep you where there are the facilities in case you go into respiratory arrest."

Sherlock slumped back on his pillows, and closed his eyes. If he was going to be stuck here overnight he may as well use it to check on his memory palace to see if any of the drugs he had been exposed to had done any damage. John took the cue to leave and headed to the canteen for a cup of tea.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sherlock opened his eyes. His memory palace seemed intact, and the cage where he kept his dragon's instincts had been mended and reinforced. He glanced at the clock. 5:30am. Had he really spent most of the night in his head? Well, it wouldn't be the first time. A nurse came into his room, and he decided to test out his deductive skills. _Married about 15 years. 2, no, 3 children, at least one of them still an infant. Works part time as a waitress, so money's tight - husband recently unemployed?_ Everything seemed to be working fine.

"Well, Mr Holmes; it looks like you're out of the danger one for now, so you're free to go whenever you want." Before the nurse had even finished speaking, Sherlock jumped out of bed and started pulling on his clothes that someone (probably John) had left on the chair by his bed. He was out the door in a couple of minutes, and quickly found John by the reception, filling out the release forms. John looked up from what he was doing and smiled.

"Figured that you'd be gone as soon as possible. To be honest I'm amazed that you didn't try to make a break for it sooner." He signed his name and handed the paperwork back to the receptionist.

"Let's go home."


End file.
